


Strings

by Swan_Song



Series: Chronicles of Death (And What Comes After It) [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Afterlife, Fuhrer Roy Mustang, Legends, Limbo, Post-Canon, Royai if you want to interpret it like that, Soulmates-ish, Strings of Fate, i guess?, no not the red string
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 13:37:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20761232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swan_Song/pseuds/Swan_Song
Summary: Soulmates are a ridiculous idea. The thought that somehow the universe arranged for you to meet someone you'd bond with immediately is a insult to the connection between people. But that doesn't make the connections between people insignificant, quite the contrary. Because those connections, the ones humans choose to make and are etched into their soul, are a powerful force. Sometimes powerful enough to keep you... somewhere in the middle.





	Strings

It wasn’t long after his appointment as Fuhrer that Roy Mustang travelled east once again to give a speech to his soldiers posted in the area. To be fair, being the Fuhrer, while having its perks, was quite a boring, administrative job. While in the lower ranks he still managed to get in some real field work, the higher he climbed the less he could actually get out and get his hands dirty with his soldiers. It was a shame, but there would always be a price to pay for power. Equivalent Exchange and all that, the boring job was the price he paid to be the strongest man in the country, strong enough to protect the people under him.

He didn’t need to glance back to know where his lieutenant was. One step behind him, slightly to the left, standing straight and following his exact pace. She always did. Thirteen years she’s been following him through the fire, watching his back. He trusted her completely, knew she was currently searching for threats around them. He allowed himself to focus on the speech. It was an important one, after all. It concerned the Ishvalan reforms, and their relationship with the newly sovereign eastern neighbours. 

The relationship between the Ishvalan people and the east-Amestrian people was… quite tense. The east suffered the brunt of the civil war, after all, and many people who lived in that area lost friends and family, be it on the battlefield or in Ishvalan bombings of civilian centres. Roy’s own parents were killed in one of those bombings, and he knew that some of the smaller border villages, like Reesembol for example, were destroyed completely, causing many casualties and leaving most of the survivors injured (some permanently) and homeless. Many Ishvalans, on their side, were obviously and understandably cautious of the Amestrian people, and even more so of the soldiers. Many resented them for the horrors of the war, and the high tensions were dangerous.

He just started talking, when he was turned and pulled down in a loud crash. It took him a few moments to realise that the sound he heard was a gunshot.

“You fucking blood-eyes lover!” A man yelled from the crowd as the rest of the soldiers around him apprehended him. The lieutenant’s entire weight was on him, and he didn’t feel injured (he knew how painful gunshot wounds were from personal experience, and he didn’t feel that pain), so… why did he feel something warm and wet spreading on his uniform?

“Lieutenant, are you okay?” He called as she started pulling herself up. There was blood on both their uniforms, but it was… pretty clear that it came from hers. She stumbled, on her knees.

“Sir, you need to get out… it could still be dangerous…” Even while bleeding out, she put her body between him and the raging crowd. Roy sat up quickly, catching her as she started collapsing forward.

“The threat is contained and taken into custody! Are you hurt your excellency?!” One of his other guards called at him.

“I’m fine, get a doctor for the lieutenant, now! Lieutenant, stay with me!” He called, applying pressure on the wound in her back as he lifted her. He could tell, by the placement of the wound, that it hit a really,  _ really _ bad place.

“Are you hurt, sir…?” She looked up at him, her eyes losing clarity and her face turning paler by the second. 

“I’m fine, lieutenant, save your strength. Don’t talk. Just breathe, lieutenant, we’re getting a doctor for you.” He pressed harder on the wound in her back, pulling her closer and trying to slow down the bleeding.

“I’m glad you’re okay…” She gave him a tired smile, full of actual gratitude and happiness, surprisingly enough. The blood was hot and sticky and slippery, covering his hands and soaking into both their uniforms as he desperately held her, even though deep down he knew she wouldn’t make it. “It’s funny… you always seem to be there to hold me when I bleed out…” How could she make a joke at a time like this? When she was…?

“Please, lieutenant, hang in there. Get through this and I’ll do it when you aren’t.” He tried to smile a little, but it looked broken. He knew she won’t make it. He knew it.

“That’s… nice…” Her face twisted in pain, then relaxed once again.

Her smile remained soft and genuine as she went limp in his arms.

His hands were shaking in the funeral. Riza Hawkeye had no family but him. Well, that wasn’t quite right, was it? No, she had no family but  _ them _ . The old crew, Furey, Havoc, Falman and Breda. Catalina, her friend from the academy. Edward, Alphonse and Winry. And him. So in the end, she did have a family. Even a big one. 

When the funeral ended, Roy stayed. He looked up at the sky, recounting the formula for human transmutation just out of habit, out of despair.

“How’re you holding up, Mustang?” Edward walked from behind him, standing next to him. His voice was concerned and caring, shaking like he himself was holding back tears.

“I’m doing fine, Edward. I’ll be okay. It just seems like the rain picks the worst times to arrive, doesn’t it?” He couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, as he looked up and let them trail down his cheeks. Last time he said that, six years ago, it was to her. She understood immediately, and to his surprise, so did Ed. 

“You’re a moron, Mustang. Come on, you’re coming home with us. No way in hell I’m letting you drink yourself to oblivion in your office.” He clapped Roy’s shoulder gently, sympathetically, and lead him away from the grave. He didn’t comment on the tears, and for that Roy was glad.

Fuhrer Roy Mustang lived a long and fulfilling life. Under his rule, Amestris made peace with most of its neighbouring countries, opened trade routes and treaties with almost every country on the map (a lot thanks to the expeditions of the Elric brothers), and made a strong alliance with Xing that will last for generations. He turned the State Alchemist institution into a research division, dedicated to improving the lives of the citizens though alchemy. He slowly but surely divided the powers that the military had to different institutions. And despite all his accomplishments, he never forgot where he came from, and what he did, and never stopped working to atone for his crimes.

The whole country wept at his funeral, at the old age of 94. He hasn’t been Fuhrer for a long time at that point, but he was still beloved by the people he served dutifully. In is funeral many important people could be seen, including the old Xingese emperor Ling Yao and his younger sister, head of the Chang clan, the renowned doctor Elric who invented a vaccine to the epidemic that swept the country and opened hospitals in small, remote villages, his wife, doctor Rockbell, who revolutionised Automail design and engineering, and many more known figures who crossed his path in his long life. 

Roy woke up on a train, and immediately knew something was wrong. The dull ache in his joints, that was a part of his life for decades, was completely gone. Looking down at himself he appeared to be wearing clothes fit for a free night out, comfortable and elegant, with his favourite long black coat on it. He wore clean white gloves, but even through them he could feel that his hands weren’t as wrinkled as they should’ve been. He looked at his reflection in the window, and was shocked to see his reflection was almost sixty years younger than the last time he saw it, his hair black and his face smooth yet again.

Yes, something was definitely not right.

“Hello there, Roy Mustang.” A terribly familiar voice called to him, one that would forever haunt his nightmares. It was a voice he only heard once, right before his eyesight was taken from him. When he turned to look, there was a white void opened in the train, and in it was, indeed, the white creature he saw. It was a vaguely human white silhouette, shaped like him. The only part visible, beside the outline, was its mouth, grinning wide.

“Didn’t think I would see you again.” He answered indifferently. Nothing could be taken from him anymore either way. He didn’t commit any taboo, didn’t ask for any truth he didn’t have yet.

“Most don’t. So, did you figure it out? The truth?” Truth grinned, and Roy just smiled back.

“I don’t know, did I? You’re supposed to be Truth, aren’t you?” He asked, glancing at the figure. It laughed, its distorted voice ringing loud but also heard only by him.

“So I am. And since you’re here… I think you did too.” That surprised Roy.

“What do you mean? Don’t everyone get here?” He asked, curious. “This is a road somewhere, right?” He tilted his head, thinking what it could possibly mean.

“Many people just move on. They don’t get on this train. They move forward. But some… some don’t. Some stay and wait. Those who do share a connection, one that they cannot leave without. Most alchemists never do find those connections. But those who do are those who find the truth within the truth, human.” Truth grinned at him, then disappeared, leaving him in the train car alone. For some reason, Roy felt like when it called him human, Truth was paying him a compliment.

“Final stop! Final stop! Everyone get off!” A voice called, and Roy stepped off the train into the train station, a huge building. He didn’t waste time in there, walking out into the blinding light. Outside he saw… East City, where he grew up. He knew that it wasn’t actually East City, and was most likely a projection of his own mind, but he appreciated it nonetheless. 

Connections you can’t go on with… Roy didn’t understand what that meant. What connections was he unable to move on without? Just as he asked that, he felt a tug on his wrist. He looked down, and saw strings tied around it. There were faded strings, partially translucent, that stretched just a little and disappeared into the unknown. Some were just bracelets around his wrist. But one string, just one, appeared completely clear. It was a deep, royal blue, and stretched toward the unknown. And while the others didn’t tug at him much, this one called him to move. They disappeared from sight a few moments later, but the tugging didn’t stop. Roy knew that whatever connection was keeping him there, it was right at the other end of the blue string.

He started walking toward where the string pulled him. He would stop sometimes, talk to people, but as he left the city fewer and fewer people were in his way. That was, until he got to a camp, way outside of a small village. He didn’t plan to stop, but… well, even the dead get lonely sometimes.

“Mind if I join?” He asked, getting a little closer. The four campers signed him to join, and introduced themselves.

“So, Roy, who is it that’s keeping you here? Are they here too, or still alive?” Tom, a short man with sandy brown hair and brown eyes asked him once they were all comfortable.

“I don’t really know. Most likely here, considering most of my friends are already dead. I did die at a fairly old age.” Roy relaxed back, smiling calmly, then rubbed his wrist. It felt urgent, the pull of the string. Jia, a short Xingese woman, laughed.

“Looks like whoever it is, they’re waiting for you to come already.” She smiled fondly. “And you’re waiting to find them. Whoever it is must be very important to you, and hold you dear just as strongly.” 

“Jia’s string doesn’t pull at her very much.” Alex, who was a freckled teen with red hair, explained. “She thinks it’s her daughter, and it’s because that girl doesn’t particularly need her anymore. She’d be what, seventy?” He turned to Jia, who shook her head. 

“Seventy six. She grew old, that’s good. I haven’t seen her since she was twelve. Left to cross the desert and look for immortality. To save our clan, you know.” She said proudly. Recognition hit Roy.

“You told this story a million times, Jia.” Tom rolled his eyes. “There’s no such thing as immortality.”

“Wait, is her name Mei, by any chance? Mei Chang?” Roy asked, eyes wide.

“You knew her? Do you know where she is? How she’s doing? Jia seemed shocked, and anxious for news.

“She’s doing quite well, really. She represented the Chang clan in the council for many years, She’s married to one of the best men I know, and last I heard from her, just a few weeks before I died… she’s happy.” It brought a smile to her face, and tears to her eyes, to hear that her daughter was safe and happy.

“Thank you, thank you!” She called out, hugging him tightly. “I never got to see her return... I got sick and without even knowing if she managed to cross the desert… I’m so glad she’s safe…” Jia wiped her tears, smiling from ear to ear, and Roy was happy for the coincidence that allowed him to meet her and ease her worries. 

The conversation was flowing, until eventually it slowed down. Roy looked around, noticing, in the darkness, a single small light atop a hill not far away.

“Do you know what’s there? I don’t think there’s a town there, but…” He gestured at it, and the others looked, and turned very quiet.

“That’s  _ her _ .” Tom said quietly. “There’s a story here, about her. She’s a soldier, you see? She’s been standing there for decades, from sunrise to sunset, guarding. What is she guarding exactly? No one knows. We don’t even know her name.” 

“I tried to ask her what she’s doing there. She said she’s waiting for her commander. Then she said something strange. She smiled, and said  _ I swore to follow him into hell if he asked, but I didn’t think I would have to lead the way. _ She won’t say anything else after that. Are you okay, Roy? You look strange.” Jia asked, tilting her head as Roy paled.

“I have to go. I kept her waiting long enough. Thank you for the company, I don’t think you’ll be seeing me again.” He stormed to get up. They all waved him goodby and wished him luck as he ran toward the hill. 

Could it really be? Did she really wait for him there for so long? Did he really hold her so dear that their connection kept him from passing on? He knew, just as he asked himself that, that he was being a fool. Of course he did. Of course  _ she _ did. His lieutenant, his right hand, his heart, the one he entrusted with his back, and who gave her life to protect him. So many things he left unsaid swarmed his mind as he willed himself to run faster, to not stop, to get to her. The string on his arm tugged him forward, helping him keep going. He might’ve imagined it, but he could almost feel it pulsing almost like a heartbeat.

On top of the hill stood a small hut. From the window he could see the warm light that shone through the darkness. He quickly caught his breath, standing in front of her door, before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door. He waited, quiet and anxious, until he heard steps from inside. And as the door opened, a face came into view that he hasn’t seen for almost sixty years, yet knew as if it was engraved into the inside of his eyelids. His breath still caught in his throat, and he stood there in awed silence until his brain blurted out the first thing he thought about.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I have flowers with me this time.” He smiled, referencing that time he called her, drunk, and asked if she could take some flowers off his hands. The smile on her face was so soft, so radiant, it almost made him cry.

“It’s alright, sir.” She whispered. “You know I don’t even have a vase.” She just stared at him, eyes wide as if she was memorising his face. His own face mirrored that wonder perfectly.

“I believe I made you a promise, right before the last time we parted, didn’t I?” He asked, quiet and gentle.

“Wasn’t your condition that I get through it?” She asked, almost joking.

“I didn’t believe there would be another chance for me to do it if you don’t. A foolish oversight on my part, It appears.” He smiled softly, spreading his arms, just a little, allowing her to walk into his embrace.

“Thank you… Roy.” She whispered, and he pulled her just a little bit tighter.

“I should be the one thanking you. You saved my life. You waited all this time. You were always right there with me. So… yes. Thank _you_, Riza.” They held each other tight, together at last, as something glowed over them. And as the sun finally rose over the land somewhere in the middle, the loyal soldier who finally reunited with her commander moved on.

For years to come, the legend spread.

There once was a loyal soldier, who gave her life for her commander who she loved more than anything else. For decades she waited for him, standing guard atop a hill. He lived on to do great things, but he never forgot the soldier he loved. And as soon as he died, he immediately started looking for her. He searched until his feet carried him to her doorstep, where they disappeared together, stepping into the light in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> This series, as you might be able to tell from the name, is... very morbid. I have A LOT of story ideas where characters die, or that deal with a character's afterlife experience. Hopefully I can get them all out for you.


End file.
